


Welcome Home

by Arietis



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:23:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arietis/pseuds/Arietis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a harsh winter, and the heater isn't working in Jean's apartment. His boyfriend, Marco, comes home from work, dusted with snow, and shaking from the cold. It seems that each other's company is the only thing that can warm them up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome Home

**Author's Note:**

> ((How does one write a summary?))
> 
> This was the first fanfiction I wrote in about four years, and of course JeanMarco is what breaks my streak.  
> They will be the death of me. 
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> (Fic on tumblr [here](http://kirschtein-bodt.tumblr.com/post/62698543641/welcome-home-jeanmarco-fanfic) )

It was the harshest winter that Jean Kirschtein has ever had to live through. At least, that’s what he believed at the moment as the heater to his apartment has been shut off. After Wall Maria had been breached, energy had become scarce causing sections of cities to be left without any power.

“This has to be the worst day” Jean grumbled to himself while jumping into a pair of flannel pajama pants, and threw on a baggy sweater.

His room contained a mattress shoved in a corner, with sheets messily sprawled over it. He meant to take down heavier blankets, but somehow he always seemed to become too distracted….Jean shook his head while laughing breathily. He took a step to move out of his room, and something sharp jabbed into his foot. Jean inhaled sharply, and brought up his foot, holding it in his hands while he looked down. He had stepped on an extra pair of straps, and conveniently stepped right on one of the buckles. “Marco…” He growled, and kicked the straps aside, causing a loud thump against the wall as well as clinks from the buckles. His room was also littered with stray clothes. Jean’s, as well as his boyfriend’s—Marco.

 

He danced across the glossed wooden floor, not daring to keep his bare feet connected with the surface for more than a few seconds. When he came to the small patch of carpet that was his living room he stood for a few moments, prepping himself to go to the kitchen. The boy dropped to his knees, and looked hastily for a pair of socks. He dropped to his stomach and reached under the single seat sofa. He could always find a pair or two under here, Marco and he always slipped them off whenever they overlapped each other upon the sofa. It was only meant to fit one…but they made it work.

 

After a bit of fumbling he slid the socks over his frozen feet and hopped up from the ground. He shuffled into the kitchen and swung the fridge wide open. His arm rested upon the door, and his head on his arm. He stared disappointedly at the near empty fridge. After a groan in discontent, he slammed it shut, and opened the pantry door. His hand ran through his hair, he hated going to get food. “Mmm…?” He hummed, swiping away empty food boxes, and pulled out a box that had one last packet to make hot chocolate.

He looked up from the box when he heard of unlocking lock on the front door. As he turned his head he witnessed a wisp of snow sneaking in and blowing in before he heard the door slamming.

“J-J-J-Jean.” A voice called out softly. Jean poked his head out from the kitchen, and there was Marco with his teeth chattering and dusted head to two with snow. Despite all this, Marco greeted Jean with a smile that contradicted the weather, warm and sweet. As much as he resisted, Jean’s lips tugged into a light smile.

“You w-wouldn’t bel-believe the weather out t-there.” Marco commented, stripping his uniform jacket off as he walked down the hall to their—Jean’s bedroom. Jean only let out a small chuckle acknowledging full well how cold it was. “You’re sure talkative today.” Marco called from the room.

“As always.” He answered, and grinned when he heard Marco laughing gently at the reply.

Jean threw the box onto the counter, and sneaked down the hall. He stopped just outside the doorway, leaning against the wall, and listened silently while Marco hummed as he moved about the room.

The humming stopped and immediately following, Marco murmured, “Jean…” before gathering a pile of clothing and throwing it into the hamper. Jean tapped his head against wall, smiling, enjoying listening to Marco’s routine when he came home. Jean peered into the room when he heard the other sighing and grumbling in frustration.  Marco was fumbling with unbuckling himself from the confines of his uniform’s straps. His hands had become numb from the cold, and were trembling fiercely as he worked on the buckle atop his chest. “Ah!” The boy whispered proudly as the straps fell away from his torso, falling, only to be caught and dangle from his belt. He was unbuttoning his shirt while simultaneously attempting to kick off his boots. With impatience, when he managed to unbutton a few he quickly raised the shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

Jean sneaked in on his tiptoes, and placed his hands on Marco’s lower back. Jean smirked when he heard him gasp sharply, and lurched away from his freezing touch, “Jean!” Marco did not go very far as Jean snaked his arms around Marco and pulled him gently back to him. Jean rested a cheek on the nape of his neck, and silently listened to Marco’s breathing. It was heavy and fast from being scared, and now he’s probably debating not to beat him up /for/ scaring him, but it soon turned back to a shallow, quick breathing caused by the cold. His teeth were chattering, and subconsciously moved back into Jean to feel any kind of warmth. He could feel brief, sudden contact with Marco’s wrists as he worked at his belt buckle. Marco seemed to quit momentarily, as he placed a chilling hand on top of Jeans—which he did not dare to flinch from—and shifted in Jean’s embrace. “Jean, what are you doing?” Marco asked gently.

“Nothing. I’ll get you a towel, and blankets.”

He left the room. He jerked open the nearby hallway closet, and draped a towel over his shoulder, and reached up, raising to his tip-toes, to the blankets on the top shelf. Using his foot to shut the closet door, he strolled back to the bedroom. Marco was now finishing tugging off his pants and kicking them to the side as he always did.  He searched the floor briefly before finding a pair of fleece pajama pants, and pulled on a form fitting sweatshirt.

 Jean dropped the blankets on already cluttered chair, and dragged the towel of his shoulders. He unfolded it quickly, “How do you still have snow all over your head?” Marco shrugged, with a small, guilty smile. Jean draped the fabric over Marco’s head before placing his hands on top, and began massaging his fingers into Marco’s hair. “Mmm~” Marco hummed softly. He loved when Jean was gentle and intimate as he was right now. The excess fabric slid off the boy’s head as Jean’s hand began making its way down to the side of Marco’s face. He gently dried off his face, and then ran the fabric across his neck. Marco’s eyes flickered up to Jean to watch him focus on wherever he was drying. Jean looked up at him, noticed he was staring, and his cheeks darkened in color, “What?”

“You’re wearing the sweatshirt I gave you.”

“Yea…So?”

Marco grinned, “It’s the first time you’ve worn it.”

“And?” Jean asked, averting his gaze to the blankets on the chair

“It looks good on you.” 

Jean picked up a blanket, putting the towel in it’s place. He shook the blanket open, and swung it around Marco. Jean brought the soft fabric over the back of Marco’s head and brought the ends of the blanket under his chin. “Thank you.” Jean finally answered, with a smile while passing the fistfuls of blanket over to Marco. “I’ll start up a fire.”

Marco clasped the blankets to his chest with one hand, “Hot chocolate?” He asked hopefully.

“Sure.” Jean nodded, and began walking out of the room once more. Marco hurried after him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Without looking behind him, Jean’s just barely stuck his arm out behind him. Marco traced the defined muscles of Jean’s arm before reaching his hand where their fingers would curl in each other as Jean led him to the living room.

While Jean worked to start the fire, Marco made himself comfy on the carpet in front of the sofa, getting as close to the fireplace as possible while still staying on the carpet. Once the fire started, Jean went immediately to the kitchen. When he returned he had a packet of hot chocolate mix, a cup, and a small pot with water.

“Only one?” Marco asked.

“Yup. All for you.” Jean smiled, and pushed the pot of water as close to the fire as he felt comfortable. Jean then sat upon the brick hearth.

“We can share?” Marco suggested, he knew Jean loved the drink as much as he did. Jean only shrugged.

Soon, Jean began pouring the steaming water into the coffee mug. He poured the powdered contents of the packet into the cup, and began stirring rigorously. The marshmallows melted instantly. He carefully handed the cup to Marco, and then joined him on the floor sitting across from him. Once comfortable, he observed that Marco was firmly grasping the cup within both of his hands. He held it close to his face for the steam of his drink to warm his face. Marco looked up from the drink, to Jean, and grinned, “Too hot.” He scooted closer to Jean, overlapping his crossed legs over Jean’s. The freckled face boy giggled when Jean scooted even closer, which in turn caused them both to stick their legs out--Marco’s over his. Jean overlapped Marco’s hands that remained over the cup. Jean’s hands were still chilly to the touch, but Marco dared not say anything, or make any sudden movements because of it. His smile just grew warmer.

Marco blew gently across the surface of the chocolaty drink, causing faint gusts of warmth to brush over Jean’s face. Jean pulled, causing both the cup and Marco’s hands towards his mouth. He tilted the cup very gradually to take the slightest sip of the drink. Once he was done he bit the tip of his tongue, “Hot!” Marco laughed, “I told you!”

The two sporadically took turns at blowing on the drink. Whenever they blew at the same time, they’d laugh and begin a small battle to see who could blast more warm air into the other’s face. Marco then became brave enough to test the temperature of the drink. Being as cautious as Jean, he started with a sip, which easily turned into a mouthful. Marco’s eyes closed, as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the others.

“Good?”

Marco’s eyes fluttered open, and leaned back to fully view Jean, “As always.”

Jean began pulling on his hands again, though did not once look down at the cup.

“Jean?”  
  
Marco was pulled forward as Jean pulled his hands to his chest, and the moment his body leaned forward, Jeans hand brushed up his arm, and rested at the back of his neck for a split second; Jean stared deeply into Marco’s eyes before they fell onto his lips, which is when he pulled Marco even further towards him. Jean’s cold lips met Marco’s sweet, warm ones. Despite the temperature difference, it was Marco who melted at Jean’s touch, and forcibly reminded himself of the hot drink he still held in his hands. One hand placed the cup to one side of him, while his other hand crawled into Jean’s, and their fingers meshed together. Jean broke the kiss, and gazed in pure affection at the boy who was blushing uncontrollably, trying to keep himself together.

“Welcome home.” Jean whispered.

 

 

 


End file.
